


Oh, You Do Have  A Heart

by beneduck_cucumberpatch



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 16:31:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2031978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beneduck_cucumberpatch/pseuds/beneduck_cucumberpatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had started off completely fine. A case, missing people, one murder. Looked that more were to be killed. Careful eyes searched the room for the tall body he had been fighting earlier. It was a tall man with dark hair, body covered in gold and a rich forest green. He had looked like something Sherlock expect from a work of fiction. Quick swings of a tall golden staff, precise yet graceful. The tall man was trained, obviously not a beginner. He’s suddenly gone, all light that had been reflecting from both he and his staff suddenly nonexistent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, You Do Have  A Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katakiln](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Katakiln).



> Inspired by a picture drawn by quoth-raven on tumblr.

It had started off completely fine. A case, missing people, one murder. Looked that more were to be killed. Careful eyes searched the room for the tall body he had been fighting earlier. It was a tall man with dark hair, body covered in gold and a rich forest green. He had looked like something Sherlock expect from a work of fiction. Quick swings of a tall golden staff, precise yet graceful. The tall man was trained, obviously not a beginner. He’s suddenly gone, all light that had been reflecting from both he and his staff suddenly nonexistent. 

“Sherlock Holmes,” he chuckles, his voice a haunting murmur in the dark, “I shall have you kneel. I will have you. I will take your heart.”

"I've been told I don't have one," he looks around, the area around him void of the tall golden figure. No, he couldn’t’ve escaped. Sherlock lets his eyes pan the room, already adjusted to the darkness that had slowly been surrounding him, his gun eventually falling to his side. Fine. He takes a careful breath, wiping sweat from his brow before sharply inhaling. "We'll see about that," his chest was glowing a pale blue, the source a golden rod that held Loki at the end. 

“Oh,” he chuckles, low and deep in an eerie darkness, “you do have a heart.”. Sherlock’s own thoughts slowly creep from his mind, being stored away as a new voice comes in, takes over. “You’ll be a fun one, won’t you?”

Loki watches his new slave, smirking. Wonderful. It’ll be truly premium to have him on the right side. He was wasting his abilities on frivolous things. Solving murders? Petty games of the fragile beings that are the dull creatures that roam this planet. His subject had much more use in his current position. Now to get the useless ones out of the way. First the ashen haired one. He’d get in thee way quickly. Perhaps he should take him, though. Use his position of ,power over these mere ants to his advantage. Yes, this seems like the best way. Just weed out the extremely dull ones.  
“Servant,” he grins, a wide one that could be nothing but malicious, “I’ve a job for you.”

 

***********************************

 

Sherlock returns to Scotland Yard, explaining that there was no lead. He had faced someone, however, they were not who he had thought. Useless to the case. Sherlock watches Lestrade, his usual urgency pushing through. Be believable, a deep voice reminds him. You’re still here, just put away for a bit.

“Speaking of the warehouse, actually,” Sherlock brings up. “There’s a few things you should look at. Evidence, if you will. You’ve yelled at me before for touching it. I need you to run fingerprints.” It was truthful that Sherlock wanted him to see at the warehouse. It was mostly the sharp end of the Chitauri Scepter being pressed to his heart. All for the betterment of the planet, all for Loki to take the position he deserves. So what if he had to step over a few cold corpses? It’d be foolish to stop because a bit of sacrifice is needed.

Loki’s part of his mind was loud. Sherlock had only a small part of his brain. He could speak, but it was often drowned out be the commands of the louder side. Simply a side effect of working for the betterment, Loki had told him. Not physically, of course. It’d been roughly four days since his encounter. Sherlock had been running errands for Loki, doing his dirty work for a while. He was never actually caught, he always worked quiet. Now he currently sat quietly in his chair, John across from him. He had been playing John, bending him to properly fit into shape with it all. It was going wonderfully. John followed Sherlock along like a lost puppy. That’s all he was, truly. A loyal pet. 

Loki wanted those who would stop him out of the way. He got what he wanted. John won’t do anything unless he knows what’s happening. We’re going to keep it that way, Loki reminds him. Best not let the pet know. 

John moved to the kitchen, Sherlock’s eyes on him. He couldn’t notice anything. He wasn’t that intelligent. Sherlock lets his eyes move to the wall behind where John had been sitting. Should we bring him to the side of the powerful? He may be beneficial, he reasons with the god, eyes falling closed. He quickly gets a reply. 

Not now, but soon. 

Wonderful. Once John sees how things should be he’ll be much more fun. John’s killed men before, it wouldn’t be all too different. What’s the difference between a cabbie and a man standing in your way? 

“Sherlock?” John questions, putting a cup of tea between them, one cradled in his hands. Was he staring off again? Perhaps so. 

“Yes, John?”

“You’ve been acting weird lately. For the past couple of days, actually. You’ve been distant, more than usual, anyway, and acting strange. Do you want to talk about it?” he offers carefully, sipping at the mug in his hands. John certainly wasn’t an idiot. He certainly wasn’t as clever as Sherlock was, but he wasn’t stupid. Not like the others. John prided himself in being quick to notice things, changes, mostly, in people. He had noticed that something was off, but he couldn’t quite place it. It was entertaining to watch him try. Such a careful creature, John. Good to know he cares about the wellbeing of those far above him. It’ll be good once they have him in the right place. 

“I’m fine,” Sherlock moves forwards and retrieves the mug, sipping at the brown liquid in the mug. It was quite hot, John had a good reason to be careful. Didn’t denote his previous statement of him being a docile creature, however. Even humans, such as himself, may admire.

John leaned forward a bit in his chair, not completely convinced that Sherlock was telling him the truth. John asks again. How quaint. He’s worried. Sherlock chuckles, eyes falling closed as he leans back in his chair. 

"I know you’re a—," he pauses, searching for the best fit word to use in such a situation, "secretive man. You prefer keeping things to yourself, I know. You can trust me, though. Is there anything wrong? I’m asking as both your doctor and your friend."

“Yes, John, I’m quite sure. Nothing wrong. I’m aware I’m a more reserved man. It works best for all of us, doesn’t it? I have myself under control.”

He sighs, standing from his chair, "Fine then. Tea?" he asks, moving towards the kitchen. Sherlock smiles to himself as he watches John leave him. Easy enough.

"Of course, pet," he sighs, getting comfortable before his eyes shoot open. John pauses, halfway to the kitchen. He asks for clarification of what Sherlock has said to him and he internally panics. John thinks for a moment, back to Moriarty and all of that. Pet. Pet. Was that it, then? He glares at Sherlock, face reddening. 

"It was nothing, John. Ignore it. Simply a slip of the tongue," he watches John as he proceeds to get redder and redder. 

"Nothing? No, it was something. Slip of the tongue?" he watches him, eyes piercing Sherlock like daggers, "Is that all I am? Was Moriarty right? I’m just some loyal pet to you?"

"No, John, you misunderstood. I didn’t mean it!" he lies. "I value you," he lies again, eyes meeting John’s. "You’re my friend, John. My best friend," with those he looks to the ground, feigning shyness about his sentiments towards the creature. Perhaps the old Sherlock would have meant it. Now, it was too late. Sherlock had changed become better. This would get John right where he wanted him. On the side where he belonged. John wanted to believe him, he honestly did. He lets his mind run through the billions of times he’d played people like puppets for cases, pulling right where he knew counted to get what he wanted; something Sherlock had been doing since far before John. He wasn’t sure if he could believe him.

"Sherlock, no," he shakes his head, "I can’t believe you. I’ve seen you do this before, countless times. To Lestrade, to Molly. Now to me? No." He backs up, looking like he was going to run to leave. 

Sherlock feels slight panic again, moving to be closer to John. "Don’t go, please. I need you for this. All of it." John glares at him, eyes moving up him and freezing at his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> http://quoth-raven.tumblr.com/post/25611532673/now-we-both-know-thats-not-quite-true Comic found here :)


End file.
